


Leave me hanging

by Builder



Series: Heroverse [15]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fever, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 10:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14851142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: No, Steve, you can't go on a mission when you're sick.





	Leave me hanging

**Author's Note:**

> Hideously fluffy prompt from tumblr. find me @builder051

“I don’t think you realize how ridiculous this is,” Bucky says, swiping Steve’s shield off the edge of the kitchen counter and setting a bottle of water and ibuprofen in its place.  “You need to call in sick.”

 

“Come on, Buck.”  Steve reaches to take his shield back.  “I can’t ignore a call.”

 

“You can when you don’t feel good.”  Bucky pushes the meds toward him.

 

“I’m fine.”  Steve puts on his helmet.  “It’s just a hostage evacuation.  And not even out of the country.”

 

“You sound like you’re rationalizing.”

 

“Maybe I am,” Steve says with a smile.  He wipes his nose on his sleeve. 

 

“Hey, I saw that,” Bucky says.  “You’re sick.”

 

“Buck, I’m fine.  But if it makes you happy…”  But Steve tosses back a handful of painkillers and takes a long draught of water. 

 

“Little bit, yeah,” Bucky says, allowing himself a smile.  He lets go of the shield when Steve reaches for it again.  “But you still don’t have to go.”

 

“There are people counting on me,” Steve says.

 

“Ok, fine.  I don’t want you to go.”

 

Steve laughs, but it turns into a cough.  “Hey.  No guilt-tripping me.”

 

“I’m not!  You’re sick.”  Bucky wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and presses a quick kiss to his lips.

 

“Well, you’re gonna catch germs doing that.”  Steve grins. 

 

“I can’t kiss your forehead with your helmet on, now, can I?”

 

“Fair enough.” 

 

A car horn honks from the driveway, and Steve steps out of Bucky’s embrace.  “There’s my ride.”

 

“Be safe,” Bucky says.  “And if you really start feeling bad, you can tap out.”

 

“Sure, Buck.”

 

“You’re not going to, are you?”

 

Steve opens the front door.  He smiles as he shakes his head.  “Not a chance.”

 

***

 

Barely two hours later, the front door creaks open again.  Bucky looks up from his laptop as Steve comes around the corner into the kitchen.  His eyes are red-rimmed, and he has a tissue clutched in his hand.

 

“That was fast,” Bucky says.  Then, “What happened?  You ok?”

 

Steve shrugs.  “Fury changed his mind at the last minute and wanted it to be stealth.  He sent Nat and Clint instead.”

 

“Yeah, uh-huh.”  Bucky shuts his computer and stands up.  “And he didn’t say anything about the fact that you’re dead on your feet?”

 

“Hey, I’m fine,” Steve insists.  He takes off his helmet and runs his hand through his hair.  It stands on end, slightly damp with sweat.  He stifles a cough, but Bucky can still hear the rattle of mucous in his lungs.

 

“I bet a hot shower would still feel good,” Bucky suggests.  “Even though you’re  _just fine_.”

 

“I…”  Steve sounds like he’s about to protest, but he starts coughing again and holds his fist over his mouth.  “Yeah,” he finally rasps.  “I think it would.”

 

“See, now you’re talking sense,” Bucky says.  “I’ll have a cup of tea for you when you’re done.”

 

“I don’t know what I do to deserve you.”  Steve heads for the stairs. 

 

“Nothing, punk.  I just kinda like hanging around,” Bucky laughs as he puts the kettle on the stove. 

 

The sound of the shower running upstairs melds with the bubbling of the water on the stove.  When the kettle whistles, Bucky fills two mugs and adds tea bags.  The house seems unnaturally quiet, and it takes him a moment to realize the shower noise has cut out too.

 

Bucky’s barely processed it when he hears something else.  A heave.  A splash.  Then a groan.  He abandons the tea and takes the stairs two at a time.  “Stevie?  You ok?”

 

Bucky isn’t sure why he asks; the answer is obvious.  He dashes through the bedroom and finds Steve crouched in front of the toilet in his underwear, his wet hair plastered to his forehead.  He turns his head when Bucky crosses the threshold into the bathroom, his cheek pressed to the toilet seat.

 

“I’m fine,” Steve rasps, but he quickly undercuts his words with a harsh cough that becomes a gag. 

 

“Alright.”  Bucky sinks to his knees at Steve’s shoulder and pats him on the back. 

 

“I’m ok, Buck,” Steve tries again when he gets his breath.  “I just…I don’t know what happened.”

 

“Hey, you’re sick, that’s all.” 

 

Steve looks up at him with glassy eyes.  “…yeah…”

 

“I’m not gonna say ‘I told you so,’” Bucky says, “But I’m glad you’re coming to your senses.”  He’s still concerned, but he lets himself smile.

 

Steve smiles too, but his shoulders jerk forward as he starts hacking again. 

 

“Alright.  Get it up,” Bucky soothes, rubbing between his shoulder blades.

 

Steve gags and spits up a weak stream of bile.  “Ugh.”

 

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs.  “I got tea for you downstairs.  Peppermint.  Maybe it’ll help your sinuses and your stomach.”

 

“Thanks.  That’s…that’s good,” Steve pants.  He pulls a length of toilet paper from the roll and wipes his mouth, then flushes the toilet.  “Still taking care of me, after all this time.”

 

“Of course I am.”  Bucky kisses Steve’s fevered cheek.  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


End file.
